


Who's There

by QueSeraAwesome



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Artificial Intelligence, Bad Jokes, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, In-Jokes, Knock-Knock Jokes, Mission Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-04
Updated: 2015-12-04
Packaged: 2018-05-04 23:33:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5352536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueSeraAwesome/pseuds/QueSeraAwesome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is a fact well-established that AI cannot lie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who's There

“Gamma,” Wyoming says, picking off another hostile from his perch in the guard tower. The body of the former guard is still leaking blood onto the floor somewhere behind him. He can smell it through his helmet. Have to adjust the filters again. “Tell us a joke, there’s a good chap.”

“Oh my _Gawd_ ,” South moans over the team comm. “Not fucking again. Lina, permission to mute him?”

“Permission denied, South,” Carolina laughs over the comm.

Wyoming catches glimpses of her once and a while. A flash of aqua boot before a guard goes down (the cam unit sometimes flickers on impact, an AI would clear that up for her), “Watch your six.”

“Prince Harry-face ‘s supposed to be watchin’ my six,” South grumbles. He watches her flip over a railing, taking out one guard before the rest can react and sprinting around the corner. The others give chase and Wyoming reloads. Gamma begins calculating wind speed vs feet per second vs angle vs rate of fire vs speed of bullet– “Jesus Christ, I never thought I’d say this but I’m never going on a mission without North ever again.”

“I’m telling him that,” York chips in, voice staticy over the comm. He must be in deep in the facility by now.

“The hell you will, Ass-Pirate, I’ll–”

“Knock, knock.”

Wyoming grins, the light of his HUD glinting off his teeth as the line crackles with explosive sighs, swears and various utterances of dismay. Gamma pulses in amusement. He can feel it like a heartbeat against the back of his neck.

“Who’s there?” Wyoming asks. Takes out one of South’s pursuers. He can play and work at the same time, unlike some people.

“My boot, up your ass if you don’t–”

“ETA, York?” Carolina interrupts.

“Almost done–”

“We’re gonna be stuck here _forever_ –”

“Daisy,” Gamma chips in.

Silence over the comm.

“Daisy who?” Wyoming always wonders if it’s only him who can hear Gamma’s layers, if only he can hear the laughter in the AI’s voice when he says–

“Daisy me rollin’. They hatin’–”

“Oh dear God.”

“That’s awful, Wyoming,” Carolina says, and even she sounds pained now. “Really awful.”

“That song is so ancient it’s crumbling, where’d you dig that shit up–”

“Permission to put muting Wyoming to a vote?” York asks.

“Fuckin’ AYE!!”

“Aye!”

“Hello?”

No one answers. Wyoming checks and, yes indeed, his entire squad has cut him off. He laughs aloud, sits back on his heels and watches South try to throw off her pack of pursuers. She doesn’t check over her shoulder near often enough. Habit, he muses.

“Tell us another, Gamma,” he says. “Now that our hecklers have moved on?”

He can feel Gamma thinking away, the sensation like pages flickering past, file trees opened and skimmed through. Wyoming closes is eyes and sees nothing but electric blue.

“I cannot tell a lie,” Gamma says.

It starts deep, a belly laugh straight up from is diaphragm and lifting straight out of the top of his head, and it goes on and on.

“This sentence is a lie,” Gamma continues and Wyoming loses it.

Somewhere, South is skidding, firing over her shoulder and Carolina’s yelling at her through the Comm. York and Delta are squabbling over a lock, getting in each other’s way. And Wyoming sits at the top of the Guard Tower, sniper rifle at his side and deception AI wired into his skull and laughs until he cries.

“That’s a good one, chap!” He says when he catches his breath, “I believe brother Delta’s head would twist clear off with that one.”

“No,” Gamma says, “I do not believe he would get the joke.”

“That’s all right,” Wyoming says, shaking his head to clear it. He picks up his sniper rifle again, prepares to fire. South has managed to get shot in the arm. Pity it wasn’t her ass. “I think those ones, we’ll keep between you and me, hm?”

“Yes, Reggie,” Gamma says. “Jokes between you and me.”


End file.
